Just Another Number
by catgirl26
Summary: It's April Fool's Day! Will a simple prank lead to something a little more serious for Bulma and Vegeta? - this is an older fic. Warnings include silliness and mildly ooc behaviour.


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Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or any of the characters seen in the show or manga. No material profit is being made off of this story.

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Author's Note: Here I am, back with yet another B/V fic! April fools is today, so have a gooder, and make sure you play lots of pranks!!!

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Special thanks go to Vegetababe, ssjblackguy, Kat8125, and Bulma Peacecraft for beta reading! Thanks also go to Marau-chan and Vegetababe for giving me the idea to do a holiday series!

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Just Another Number

Bulma snickered quietly to herself as she pushed the door open, inching ever so quietly into the darkness of Vegeta's room. It was early morning and the sun had not yet risen. The Saiyan no Ouji was still asleep and dreaming too, by the looks of it. 

She stopped to watch him, clutching and empty laundry basket to her chest. He moaned quietly in his sleep, his large hands clutching the bed as his fingers dug into the mattress. A quiet groan escaped his lips and his fingers clenched again, digging into the sheets below him, and tearing the thin material. Bulma watched, fascinated, as his arms tensed, followed by the corded layers of muscle in his shoulders, and down his nude back. She was sure the tension went further, all the way down to his toes, but from the waist down only a thin cotton sheet covered him. It was obvious to her that he slept completely nude, and it took all of her self control to tear her eyes away from the perfectly sculpted Saiyan and to not crawl into bed with him.

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It's just a foolish little crush; she sighed to herself,_ nothing more than lust._ She shook her head, turning away from the slumbering alien, and back to her task. Quickly and quietly, she opened the top drawer of his dresser, soundlessly removing all of the neatly folded articles of clothing. One by one, she emptied each of his drawers into her basket, unable to keep from blushing as she opened the top, rightmost drawer, handling the silken undergarments inside. 

Truth be told, Bulma did not have much experience with Vegeta's underwear. When he had first moved into Capsule Corporation, she had bought him a brand new wardrobe, but conveniently forgot to buy undergarments, leaving the task to her mother, who thought that such a handsome man as Vegeta should wear nothing but sexy, sleek silk. And although Bulma commonly did laundry in the Briefs' household, she refused to be a servant to Vegeta, and again, her mother picked up the task of washing Vegeta's laundry. Occasionally, though, a pair of Vegeta's boxers would end up in Bulma's load, bringing forth a crimson blush from the young woman.

It was strange, she knew, to get so flustered over a pair of underwear, but there was something about Vegeta that made her nervous and excited at the same time. He was so gruff, so animalistic, and so undeniably masculine, and next to him, she felt so fragile and feminine. It unnerved her, but at the same time, she enjoyed the way his presence could reduce her to a bubbling welt of girlish insecurity. It was awfully odd that such a thing would excite her, but with Vegeta, she felt like a woman, not the tomboyish grease monkey she was. No other man had ever made her feel like a real woman…she was pretty, that was for sure, and she often dressed up and played the part of the ravishing coquette. With other men though, she _needed _the sleek dresses and high heels, the hours spent doing her hair and makeup, to feel like the female she was.

But with Vegeta…with him, it was different. Even wearing the frumpiest, dirtiest pair of her father's coveralls she could find, with grease and oil smudges dotting her face, when Vegeta entered her workshop, the familiar butterflies would flutter in her stomach and giddiness would bubble up in her. She felt like a woman…like the fictional characters in all of her mother's trashy romance novels, who were reduced to giggling, jelly-kneed piles of femininity, and loved every minute of it. And Vegeta was the lead male who caught the woman's eye…the typical strong and silent type, exuding waves of masculinity and reducing strong willed, grease-monkey businesswomen to quivering, wanton _women._

Bulma shook her head with a tiny smile, covering her mouth with one well-manicured hand to keep in the giggle threatening to escape. _But this isn't a romance novel…and with a guy like him, a 'happily ever after' ending is quite unlikely…_ Sighing, she closed the last drawer in the dresser and moved to the small closet, deftly plucking the few articles of clothing off of their hangers and tossing them into her basket.

With a giggle, she set down a single pair of pants and a shirt on the chair beside his desk. Taking one last look at the sleeping Saiyan, she fled the room, basket and all of Vegeta's clothing in hand.

***

Vegeta awoke, groggily rubbing the sleep from his eyes. With a groan, he swung stiff legs over the side of his bed and sat up, one hand absently moving upward to rub the opposite shoulder. "Damn dreams…" he muttered, "always leave me tense." He stretched his arms upward, the joints in his arms and upper back popping and cracking in a most satisfying way. 

Standing up, he untangled himself from the sheet and proceeded to stretch the rest of his body, not caring in the least that he was doing so in the nude. In Frieza's army he had avoided disrobing as much as possible, due to the not-so-friendly nature of some of his fellow soldiers. It was not their sexuality that bothered him, but rather the fact that compared to many of his peers, he held relatively high moral standards, and considering that he was a young teenager who regularly purged entire planets and star systems of life, he did not hold those with lesser values in high regard. A murderer and ruthless killer he was, but never a rapist.

On Earth though, in the Briefs' household, he felt a certain measure of comfort. There was no one here who could ever do anything to him against his will, and there was no one cruel enough to try.

Padding toward his dresser, he opened the top right drawer to grab a pair of boxers, only to find it empty. Blinking in confusion, he opened another drawer, and then another and another until all of them were open, every last one empty. Snarling in frustration, he flung the closet door open to see nothing but bare wire hangers. He whirled, eyes wide in shock, around the room as a flash of color caught his eye.

Sitting on the chair beside the desk he never used was a pair of yellow pants and an all too familiar pink shirt. The woman's scent was all over the fabric, permeating the air in his room, and pinned to the front of the shirt was a little note, written in her neat writing.

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April Fools!

Vegeta blinked, staring at the note in shock. All of his clothing was gone, aside from the one hideous outfit he had been forced to wear upon his arrival on Earth. "What the hell is going on?" He muttered, and then it clicked. He remembered overhearing a discussion the two Briefs women had been having, about something called "April Fools Day" and the pranks they were going to play. 

"That damnable woman stole all of my clothing so I would have to wear this…this…agh!" He growled, fisting the pink shirt in one hand. "The Saiyan no Ouji is not tricked so easily though…" he smirked.

Down in the kitchen, Bulma giggled as she heard the Saiyan's enraged snarl. Pounding footsteps ensued down the stairwell, and she jumped up out of her chair, camera in hand, ready to take a picture of the mighty Saiyan Prince in his lovely neon attire. Hearing him right outside the door, she raised the camera and snapped a picture right as he walked in.

Lowering the camera in shock, she stared at the smirking male, the Polaroid picture slipping out of its slot and falling silently to the floor. "I think you dropped this." The Saiyan uttered, making a show of bending to retrieve the fallen photograph. He stepped forward and handed it to her, as she numbly accepted it, unable to tear her eyes away from him. "Now next time you want to see me naked, you have a picture, and you won't have to resort to stealing all my clothes, ne?" he teased, before moving to sit at the table.

"Bu…I…ah…" she sputtered, whirling to face him. He sat nonchalantly at the table, calmly watching her as if his nakedness was a common thing. "That was not…I didn't want…"

"Where's my breakfast?" He asked, cutting her off.

"I'm not giving you anything till you put some clothing on!" she managed to shriek.

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How 'bout I give you something instead then…His mind purred as his eyes trailed up her body. She could no longer see anything indecent, as the table covered him, but a rosy flush had stained her cheeks, and her eyes were still wide with shock. He found himself thinking, not for the first time, that she was very pretty. "Ah, but what do I have to wear?" he let out an exaggerated sigh. "Last time I checked, all of my drawers were empty. Perhaps you'd like me to fashion a toga out of this table cloth, ne?"

"Your clothes are all in the spare room between our rooms," she muttered, turning away so she wouldn't have to embarrass herself by staring at him again when he stood up. "Go shower and put something on and I'll have breakfast ready when you get back."

She heard his chair scrape against the tile floor and listened to his footsteps as he padded away. Still blushing heavily, she turned to throw out the Polaroid in her hand. Flipping up the lid on the garbage can, she hesitated for a moment, unable to tear her eyes away from the image of Vegeta's naked form. Taking a quick look around the kitchen to make sure no one could see her, she stuffed the photo in her back pocket and got started with breakfast.

"That prank sure turned out rotten…" she muttered to herself, a shiver running down her spine as her mind conjured up an image of Vegeta's… "Stop that Bulma!" she cried to herself as her little fantasy widened to include herself and Vegeta on a rumpled bed. 

Forcefully, she banished the image from her mind and got back to cooking. "In the good spirit of April Fool's Day, I'll just add a little cayenne pepper to Vegeta's pancakes," she giggled, dumping a huge scoop of the red spice into the batter, knowing the Saiyan was not overly fond of it. She heard water running through the pipes above her head and groaned, her mind conjuring up a picture of him in the shower.

"Okay…that prank definitely did not work out well…" she sighed, "But not to worry! There are others…" she muttered to herself, a devious little smirk on her face. "And who knows…" she patted her back pocket lightly, "maybe this little picture will come in handy one day." 

Humming a little song, Bulma finished making the cayenne pancakes and stacked them all on a plate for Vegeta. She set the plate on the table, along with a knife and fork, though she wasn't sure if Vegeta would even bother using them. Glancing at the clock, she pulled out a glass and set it on the table, along with a jug of milk and the bottle of syrup. Quickly using the door of the microwave as a mirror, she checked her makeup, grabbed her purse, and set off for work.

Upstairs, Vegeta had just stepped out of the shower and was drying himself off with a towel. Pulling on his shorts, he replayed the morning's incident in his mind, and smirked with satisfaction. He had managed to turn her little prank around, and would have good material to tease Bulma with for months! The way she had just stared at him, she was obviously impressed, and he could embarrass her to no end with quips like that! 

Brushing his teeth though, he thought to himself that it was quite unfair that she had seen him naked, yet he hadn't been treated to a view of her curvaceous little body. It was useless to pretend to himself that he wasn't attracted to her. His groin spoke for itself in matters like that, and if his recent dreams had anything to do with it, his body was definitely trying to tell him that it wanted her.

He shivered, recalling the dream he had had the previous night. It had been rather graphic, and again, he had torn his sheets, his body acting out his dream. It was, of course, rather embarrassing to explain why his sheets were constantly ripped to shreds and why he sometimes chewed a hole in his pillow, so he usually made up stories about how he had been fighting in his dreams. Bulma's mother usually believed him, but he knew that Bulma was getting skeptical with his paltry explanations, so he usually avoided letting her know about his nightly escapades through the dream world.

Last night's dream had been the most explicit one yet though, almost as if she were really there with him. It had been so realistic…he could even smell her, hear her sigh into his ear with pleasure…

"Damn it, Vegeta!" he snarled at his reflection in the mirror, "you should be doing something useful instead of fantasizing about a stupid woman. You already know she's pretty, and you already know you want to have her, but you can't, so just stop it." He sighed to himself… "Feh…" He snorted to himself. _You want her Vegeta…but you've wanted many things in your lifetime. You don't need her…you don't need anyone. Just train. Train and become strong._

He turned quickly away from the mirror, slamming his toothbrush down on the counter, and stalked out of the bathroom, pulling his shirt on as he went. Breakfast was waiting for him, and after that, he would beat the silly lustful feelings right out of himself with a good, long training session. Hopefully, he would be so tired when he came out that he wouldn't even be able to dream. 

Taking the stairs two at a time, Vegeta made his way down to the kitchen, where his breakfast was waiting on the table. He was so hungry that he didn't even notice the slightly spicy smell, and just shoved the first pancake into his mouth as he poured himself a glass of milk.

Gasping, he forced himself to swallow the pancake, and eyes watering, he chugged down his glass of milk, and then finished off the jug. "What…" he seethed, his tongue burning, "What the hell did that little wench do to my breakfast?" He snarled, looking over at the counter, where an empty jar, labeled 'Cayenne Pepper' sat. He picked it up and sniffed at it, recoiling as the scent hit his sensitive nose. "Bitch…" he hissed. "Another _prank_, I'm sure." He stalked across the room to the fridge, poking his nose in to see if there were any available leftovers. "She will pay dearly for that…nobody, and I mean _nobody_, messes with the Saiyan no Ouji's breakfast…"

Bulma sat in her office, snickering. "He'll have started eating by now!" she giggled, propping her feet up on the desk and leaning back in her chair. "I do so hope he enjoys it!"

After finding Mrs. Briefs and ordering her to cook him a fresh batch of untainted pancakes, Vegeta was full of food and ready to train, though he was more than a little upset about having lost a full hour of training time.

Cracking his knuckles and stretching his arms out as he walked, Vegeta made his way to Capsule 3, his ship and gravity room. He punched the big red button that would open the door, and growled when the ship stayed tightly shut. He hit the button again.

"Access denied. Please enter password." The ship's familiar mechanical voice said, and Vegeta's eyes narrowed. 

"Bulma…" he growled to himself, flipping open the hatch that held the keypad. He tried typing in some random numbers first, and the ship repeated its message.

"Access denied. Please enter password."

So he tried typing in some numbers that had some significance to Bulma and her father. He typed in Bulma's birthday.

"Access denied. Enter the _correct_ password, idiot." 

Vegeta's eyes widened in shock as the computer's monotone voice insulted him. "How dare that blasted woman!" he raged, but calmed himself. He would beat her at this. He'd sit here typing in passwords all day until he found the correct one, rather than ask the harpy for assistance. He decided to try Mr. and Mrs. Briefs' anniversary. He remembered the awful date only because he had made a mental note never to be home for it again.

"Access denied. Come on, asshole! Can't you figure out a simple little password?"

He snarled at the console but started over, typing in another number.

"My god, you are even stupider than you look."

And another number.

"Even Goku could have figured it out by now."

And yet another number.

"Can't you figure it out, monkey boy?"

He nearly lost his resolve on that one, the cold, feminine voice reminding him of Frieza for a moment, but recovered and typed in another number.

"I suppose I shouldn't call you a monkey, you know. It's a total insult to monkeys all over the planet."

"AGHHH!!! Shut up you blasted piece of machinery! I hate you!" He yelled, punching the hull and leaving a huge dent.

"You shouldn't hit a lady, Vegeta." The ship's voice scolded him. "It's not very polite."

"GO TO HELL!!!!" He screamed, gathering his power. One arm outstretched, he blasted a hole right through the ship. It went in through one side and right out the other, curving up to dissipate far up in Earth's atmosphere. "Take that…" Vegeta panted, "stupid pile of crap."

Turning on his heel, he stalked back toward the house, too irritated to train in the yard under normal gravity. He had to find a way to get back at Bulma before noon. The humans' little pranking day ended at noon, if he was correct.

"How will I get her back for this…I must make her pay…" he snarled to himself, stamping through the kitchen and up the stairs, two at a time. He was deep in thought, his mind working, straining for an idea, and suddenly found himself in front of Bulma's door.

He hesitated, remembering the screeching fit she had thrown last time he entered her room uninvited, but soon pushed away his reservations. _If she doesn't want me in there, she's obviously hiding something…perhaps something I can use against her…_

Pushing open the door, he took a quick look around to make sure he was not being observed, then entered the room, quickly shutting the door behind him. He stood a few feet into the room, looking around, observing things, and just dying to snoop.

Vegeta's hands itched to dig into something, to open drawers and shuffle through her closet and venture under the bed to see what she might have kept away under there. He wanted to know something about her…maybe something her friends didn't even know…he wasn't quite sure why, but the curiosity was definitely there…

Or maybe he just wanted to 'accidentally' catch a glimpse of her panties.

Eyes widening, Vegeta came up with a plan. Glancing around the room, he snatched up a white canvas gym bag off the floor near his feet, turned it over, and dumped the contents to the floor. One slightly smelly shoe bounced on the ground, it's partner having been lost long ago in the recesses of Bulma's closet, along with a rumpled T-shirt and a pair of badly wrinkled shorts.

Smirking devilishly to himself, Vegeta strode over to Bulma's dresser, took a deep breath, and whipped open the second drawer from the top. His fingers twitching slightly, he plucked the first item out and dropped it into the open bag. Blushing, he reached back in to the drawer, grabbed another fistful of panties, and dropped them into his bag along with the first pair. 

A fluttery feeling rose in his stomach as he held the silky undergarments, and he swallowed a newly formed lump in his throat. "I'm as bad as that damn Kame sennin…" he muttered, fingering the silky material of a slinky red thong. The pink hue on his angular cheeks deepened to a dark crimson flush as he imagined Bulma in the tiny scrap of material. He groaned and stuffed the garment into the bag with the others. "Stop that…you're supposed to be getting back at the woman…not fantasizing about her." Shaking his head in an attempt to rid himself of the image, he emptied the rest of the drawer into his bag. 

A shower and a change of clothes later, Vegeta set off toward Capsule Corporation headquarters. The big domed building housed all the offices and labs, and would be full of Bulma's employees today. He smirked, shifting the canvas bag from his right hand to his left; she would pay.

"Miss Briefs," the secretary's voice buzzed over the intercom. "Your 11:00 appointment is here."

"Send him in." Bulma replied, and was surprised when a male voice came crackling back.

"Actually, I was thinking you could come out…like, to lunch."

Bulma giggled at the flirtatious voice, pushing the intercom button to reply. "Why Kentaro, I thought you had left Japan years ago."

"I came back to see you."

"Oh be quiet, I'll be right out."

Pulling a compact mirror out of her purse, Bulma quickly checked her makeup and hair, smiling widely to make sure there was nothing stuck between her teeth. Satisfied, she shut the compact with a click, dropping it in her purse as she strode toward the door.

"Kentaro, it's been a long time." She flashed a smile at the handsome man, who returned the gesture, taking her arm as he led her toward the elevators.

"You're beautiful as ever." He quipped, and she blushed ever so slightly. Kentaro had been one of her close friends and business associates a few years back, but had left Japan to teach technology courses in China. He had always had a crush on her, she knew, but at the time she had still been dating Yamcha. She figured he must have heard about their breakup. "A mutual friend told me that you're no longer with Yamcha…" 

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Kentaro…so gorgeous, classy, and handsome…but so unbearably predictable…

"Here you are, compliments of Bulma Briefs." Vegeta said, handing the astonished Capsule Corporation employee a pair of Bulma's underwear. 

"Umm…thanks…"

"No problem at all." Vegeta said, plastering a big fake smile on his face. "I'm just doing my job!" Inside, he shuddered, reminding himself very much of Kakarott…_It's all for the sake of revenge…revenge is good. _He told himself, handing a blue mesh thong to another of Bulma's male employees.

"Hey, can I get one too?" A voice asked, and Vegeta turned to see a young woman standing in front of him. She eyed the panties in his hand with more than a friendly interest.

He eyed her nametag, and smirked. "Miss Benton, I presume?" The woman nodded, and his smirk grew wider, recalling a conversation he had overheard months ago, about the woman at the office who kept hitting on Bulma.

"Moira Benton." She confirmed, and he extended one panty-filled hand toward her, handing over the lacy garment.

"Bulma told me to save this pair especially for you."

As Moira scurried off, clutching Bulma's panties to her chest, Vegeta let out a satisfied sigh. He had caught the lunch rush and had managed to hand out all but one pair of the stolen underpants. The one he still had left was the raciest of all; a little black leather thong, studded with little silver circles of metal. He had been shocked to find such a garment in Bulma's dresser…but strangely pleased. Handing them out would result in definite embarrassment for her…but he couldn't give them out to just anybody. He had to find someone really important to give these too…

A flash of blue caught his eye, and he turned to see her strolling happily down the sidewalk, arm in arm with an equally happy looking young man. Scratch that…the guy looked like he was in heaven. 

The smirk forming on his face was so malicious and mirthfully evil that people actually veered off to the sides in order to avoid walking near him.

Bulma watched, puzzled, as several male employees whistled at her, holding panties in the air, and then she paled, seeing one of her personal technicians clutching her favorite red silk thong.

"Where'd you get those?!?!?" She shrieked, grabbing the man and pulling him toward her. Kentaro backed away slightly, suddenly very afraid of the woman he was so enamoured with.

"I…I…that guy…over there…" the man raised a shaky hand, pointing off into the crowd. Bulma strained her neck, trying to see who he was pointing at, but no one seemed to stand out. "That guy with the ferocious widow's peak…has a pseudo English accent…" he stuttered as she squinted, still peering at the crowd. Her eyes hardened all of a sudden, and he whimpered, almost seeing flames dancing in those beautiful blue irises…

Vegeta emerged from the throng of people, something fisted tightly in his right hand. On his face was the most evil expression of pleasure she had ever seen. His eyes locked with hers as he strode toward them, twinkling with mirth.

"Bulma, babe," he said, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her soft body against his own. "You left these at my place last night." Her eyes widened, moving to the leather dangling from his hand, and she opened her mouth, closing and opening again in an attempt to speak.

"Excuse me…what's going on here?!?" Kentaro broke in, his voice rising slightly at the sight of the thong dangling from Vegeta's fingers.

"Oh you know…" Vegeta smirked, his tone insinuating a very passionate night. "Sure, she's speechless now, but last night, she just about busted my ear drums with all her yelling. All night, just begging me to give 'er the old _'Big Bank Attack.'_ But I guess that's what I get for dating a certified Nymphomaniac, ne?"

All Bulma could do was stare in horror at the garment in Vegeta's hand, and listen numbly to the words he was saying. The thong, studded leather in all it's glory, swayed in the breeze as she remembered how she had come to own it. The thing had been a gag birthday gift from one of the girls in her University Sorority…never would she admit that she had actually worn it a few times…

"I think I should go Bulma…" Kentaro muttered, obviously uncomfortable as Vegeta squeezed her body closer to his own. "I assumed you were available…"

"No Kentaro, I am! Believe me, I am." She struggled against Vegeta's strong arm, holding her in place.

"Oh, so now I'm just a bit of kink when life gets too stressful?" The Saiyan rumbled, managing to sound hurt as he hid his laughter. 

"I should go now Bulma…see you around…" Kentaro muttered dejectedly, turning on his heel and stalking off in to the distance.

"No, Kentaro, it's not what you think!" she cried after him, but he kept walking…and she sighed quietly to herself… "There goes another good friendship, down the drain…" she muttered, looking up to realize that a large crowd had gathered to watch the scene.

Vegeta smirked, leaning down to whisper in Bulma's ear as he pulled her closer again. "Leather, little female? I never would have thought you were so kinky." His breath on her ear sent a tingle down her spine and she shivered, his hand running seductively up and down her side as his other arm held her firmly against his hard body. He chuckled quietly, slowly releasing his hold on her and moving away. 

"I…I…" she stuttered, trying to force back the thought that she had been rather comfortable in his arms. He looked away, not willing to admit that he was loathe to release his hold. 

His gaze roamed the crowd before catching hers, and he flashed a toothy, malicious little grin, before announcing, quite a bit louder than necessary, "See you after work, kitten." He winked, handing her the studded leather thong, before turning on his heel and swaggering away, his confident gait drawing admiration and jealousy from the many men in the crowd.

It was late. Bulma was sitting quietly at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of hot tea as she flipped idly through the pages of a Victoria's Secret catalogue. Her pen scratched on the thick pad of paper at her side, writing down the product numbers of what she wanted to order. After Vegeta's little escapade, she now owned only two pairs of panties, the ones she was wearing, and the little leather number hidden in the back of her closet.

The stairs creaked in the distance, and she looked up as the kitchen door swung open. Her Saiyan houseguest appeared, clad in only a pair of boxers. The light from the fridge flooded the room for a moment as Vegeta poured himself a glass of water. He hesitated momentarily by the door, before giving in to his mind's irrational demand that he sit at the table with the woman instead of going back to his room.

"The gravity chamber…" he ventured after a few minutes of silence. "It needs to be repaired." Bulma giggled quietly to herself, recalling all the things she had programmed it to say.

"I take it you didn't figure out the password?" she teased, knowing full well that he never would have figured it out. 

He snarled in response, and she sighed, wondering whatever possessed her to create the password she did…02-12-22… 02, because B was the second letter in the alphabet, 12 because L was the twelfth, and 22 because V was twenty-second. BLV: Bulma Loves Vegeta. She was the only one who knew what it meant. To anyone else, it was just another number.

She had done it on a whim, as a silly sort of joke, but after being held so close to him earlier that morning, she knew that there was more to what she was feeling than a bit of girlish lust over a handsome face and muscular body. Love was definitely too strong a word to describe her feelings, but she knew it could very easily grow to love in the future. 

Vegeta squirmed uncomfortably in his chair as Bulma watched him with a dreamy sort of look in her eyes. The thought that she could actually return some of the attraction he felt for her was unnerving in a strange way. He wanted badly to get closer to her, but the thought of becoming even slightly dependent on her made him nervous.

"I can't believe you gave all of my underwear to my employees." Bulma huffed, breaking the silence. 

"Not quite all of it…" Vegeta chuckled back, raising his eyebrows suggestively at her as he leaned backward a bit in his chair.

"I'll have you know that those were a gag gift." She spat back, embarrassed that he had seen them.

"Sure…that's why the leather is worn in, ne?"

"I…Agh! At least I wear underwear! Not like you, Mister I-Walk-Around-Naked."

"At least I don't take pictures of naked people."

He had her there, she realized, and flushed as she remembered that the Polaroid was still nestled comfortably in her back pocket. Vegeta saw her flush, and his eyes widened.

"You still have it, don't you?" He laughed at her, leaning across the table. "You little pervert…I never knew you had it in you!"

"Shut up…I wasn't keeping it to look at it you jerk! I was going to use to blackmail you!" she shot back, squirming in her embarrassment.

"Why should I care who sees me naked? It's not like I have anything to be embarrassed about."

"You are so full of yourself, you know that?" Bulma growled, jumping out of her chair and stalking across the kitchen to put her cup in the sink. As she set it down, she saw Vegeta's hands come down to grip the counter on either side of her. He pressed himself into her from behind, effectively trapping her against the counter. She stiffened, not quite knowing what to expect as his lips came down against her ear, brushing ever so lightly against her skin as he spoke.

"I can bet you'd like to be full of myself too…" he whispered, huskily, catching her earlobe in his teeth.

She gasped, melting backward against him as his hands came up to cup her breasts, teasing the hardened nipples straining against her blouse. She moaned his name quietly turning her head to try and catch his lips.

"April Fools…" he whispered suddenly, pulling away from her and turning to leave. She turned to look at him though, and saw his eyes, darting nervously about the room, refusing to meet her own gaze. The uncertainty had hit him hard, and without thinking rationally, he had spouted the words that could ruin his chances with her, saving him from possible heartbreak later in life.

"I don't believe you…" she whispered, catching his wrist as he made another move to escape. He turned to face her, his nervous eyes finally meeting hers, questioning her. "I don't believe you…" she turned her face up, brushing her lips ever so lightly across his, "because April Fools ended at noon."

She pressed her lips against his again, opening her mouth to him as his arms wrapped hesitantly around her tiny waist, gently bringing her body back against his, surrendering to the strange feelings. He had dealt with pain before, and he could do it again, if need be. At that moment though, he just wanted to hold her, to be with her, even if only for a little while.

Bulma moaned quietly against his mouth, pressing herself closer to the Saiyan Prince as she wrapped her arms around his neck, one hand wandering up to toy with his hair.

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Okay…sometimes real life does turn out like a romance novel…

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The End

Major props to ssjblackguy's father, for saying the following about Vegeta"

"That guy with the ferocious widow's peak has a pseudo English accent."

One of the funniest things I've ever heard! And major thanks, ssjblackguy, for letting me use that line! And for having such a cool dad! *giggle*

Okay, so here's the deal, because of the way this story turned out, I just know that I'm going to get some reviews about Bulma not being a strong enough character, etc. Well, in the end, it was Bulma who had strength while Vegeta was ready to run, so think about that before you accuse me of being sexist! (Happened to me a while ago. I'm not being a bitch, just trying to avoid getting needlessly flamed.)

So anyway, that's it! Please review! Even if you didn't like it, I'd like to hear why! Contrary to popular belief, criticism is accepted, flames and personal insults are what I freak about! *giggle* Have a great day everybody! Play lotsa pranks and eat lotsa easter candy!


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